Recall
by Eliza4892
Summary: Post I Do. Three years after the crash, the Others have dropped off the radar, and the survivors have settled into a routine. There never was a rescue mission for Jack, who finds his own way back. But there are complications no one expected.


She'll always remember it was a wash day. Every fifth day was a wash day for her, but this one was an important one, a fact that had little to do with the clothing involved. Later, when she asks John about it, he'll tell her it was also three years from the day of the crash.

Most of the survivors hated laundry. Claire saw it as a chance to relax, a chance to be by herself. For an hour every few days she had no responsibilities, no obligations. It was just her and the blue waters, calm even though monsoon season was barely a month away. No one bothers her, either too wrapped up in their own lives, or aware of the routine that she's had in place for as long as most of them can remember.

On this day someone did bother her. Charlie came down the beach towards her, stopping with two feet between them. It wasn't an easy stroll down the beach either and there was something in the way he moved that told her she needed to listen up to whatever he was about to say.

"Aaron says he saw something in the jungle." He met her eyes when he spoke. Charlie always watched Aaron on wash days, in fact, to the outside observer, they resembled divorced parents with joint custody. They only spoke when it was concerning Aaron, otherwise they kept their distance. Things hadn't been good between them in over a year, and she avoided him as much as she could because she knew he still cared for her and their split had been harder on him than it had been for her. He also still cared for her little boy and so she let him spend as much time with Aaron as he wanted.

"Well John and the others are out. Maybe he saw one of them." Claire didn't worry as much anymore about mysterious figures in the jungle. They hadn't seen or heard anything from the Others since Kate and Sawyer's reappearance, not long after they had been taken. Her son had an overactive imagination. It wasn't hard to discount his claims somedays.

"Claire I think he would've known if it was one of yours. This was someone else." Charlie seemed nervous, like he'd already made up his mind that whatever it was couldn't be good.

"Where in the jungle?" She asked with a sigh, holding a shirt up against her chest so she could fold it. She wasn't convinced that it was a big deal and she treated it accordingly.

"Oh no. It's one thing when you go out there with Kate, but it's another thing when you go gallivanting alone." He warned, old protective instincts kicking up again. She gave him a look that asked the question once more. With a grunt, he pointed to a break in the trees, northwest from where she stood, and she nodded. He opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him.

"There's nothing out there Charlie." There was so much confidence in her voice that she sounded nothing like the scared pregnant girl from years ago. She was a different person than she was then. Charlie looked away from her and she packed the clothes up, carrying them with her to drop them off in her shelter, walking off, but not before calling over her shoulder, "Watch him until I get back."

---

Claire wasn't in for a long trek. She just wanted to prove to herself that there was really no one out there. Ten minutes into the jungle and she could tell already that she was wrong. Fresh footprints could be seen in the dirt, dampened by the rain from the night before. Locke's group hadn't come this way. She took a long breath, and then followed them.

She found him when she pushed through the trees. She nearly screamed, bringing a hand to her mouth just before the sound could make it past her lips. The man in front of her looked confused and disoriented; tired like he hadn't slept in a long time, yet still steady on his feet. It mirrored his appearance on the day they crashed.

"Jack."

---

Two and a half weeks after the disappearance of Jack, Kate and Sawyer, the latter two had shown up on the beach. No one knew where Jack was, or if he was even alive, and, when Hurley asked, Claire had watched Kate's eyes water as she headed away from the welcoming party and down the beach. The woman had sat at the shore's edge for the remainder of the day, until Sawyer had coaxed her up and into his tent.

John once told her that Sawyer had admitted Jack had stayed behind so they could leave. He wouldn't say where exactly, just that they shouldn't go after Jack. Claire could never understand how they could just leave him there. Like he hadn't done so much for all of them.

She never expected to see him again.

"Jack, what are you…?" she paused, trying to figure out what was going on. How he'd gotten there. Why he was dressed in a suit that was identical to the one he wore the day of the crash. In a quiet voice, she added, "We thought you were dead."

He looked at her with concentration in his eyes, opening his mouth and closing it only seconds afterwards several times. He was searching for something. It took her a minute to realize he was trying to remember who she was.

"It's Claire. Remember you saved me the day of the crash." She reminded him, wondering if he was experiencing the same type of amnesia as she had upon her return. With small reminders things had started to come back to her to a degree. She was hoping that, if he actually had lost some of his memories, there might be a way to trigger them again. Then again, it had been three years; things could just be a little fuzzy for him.

Jack nodded, recognition sweeping over his face. So at least he knew who she was now. That she wasn't an Other. Suddenly, his eyes jerked back to her, "Aaron. How is he?"

She couldn't help the smile that came over her face, "He's fine. He's with Charlie." Jack seemed to understand that. He knew who Charlie was, and she was led to believe that his memory remained pretty much intact. Quick assumptions were often proved wrong; she still had yet to learn that. "How did you escape? Sawyer and Kate said there were two islands, that they got back by boat."

"Who?" 

Claire looked up to see the blank stare he fixed her with. "Kate and Sawyer. They were with you…" nothing seemed to click and she felt her stomach drop, all hopes destroyed. "You don't have any idea who I'm talking about do you?" He shook his head, and it occurred to her that maybe standing in the middle of the jungle like this wasn't such a fantastic idea. "I think we need to get you back to camp."

When she grabbed hold of his hand to lead him back, he didn't resist.

---

It was with some effort that she slipped by unnoticed from the cover of the jungle into her shelter, with the newly returned doctor at her side. From experience she knew the last thing he would want was a big welcoming party, especially with the apparent gaps in his memory. They didn't need to know he was back. Not yet.

As they'd made their way back to camp she had thought it over. Her only solution to keep everyone from swarming around him was to keep him hidden. Then maybe she could jog his memory. She didn't want to send him out there for everyone to look at him like there was something wrong with him. Like he would draw the Others to their camp. It was how they'd looked at her upon her return. No one needed that kind of reception. She was doing what felt right, at the moment, in her head.

"You're going to need to stay here, away from everyone else for a few days." He looked like he was going to protest but she put on her best mom face. "Trust me it's not going to be any fun letting everyone know you're back unless you like interrogations and being treated like an outcast."

Jack avoided her eyes, as he sat in the corner of the shelter like he was used to it. As soon as he'd stepped inside, surrounded again by four walls, he'd tensed up. She wondered what went on during his imprisonment. What kind of conditions he had been held under. She didn't ask because she figured it was too soon for that. "Is that how you felt? After you came back. Did you feel like you were an outcast?"

"Yeah," she admitted, looking through the clothes that she had brought back from the beach earlier. They were all folded now. Best guess, Charlie had finished up what she had started. She shrugged slowly, "I was. I was an outsider. The thing that bonds us all together is the island. Our memories of it. We've probably passed each other on the street dozens of times but if it weren't for this crash we wouldn't even know one another existed. Without those memories you don't fit in."

Shaking his head, he laughed to himself, "That's reassuring." She wasn't used to sarcasm out of him but it was comforting that he seemed to be adjusting at least.

"You wouldn't have that much of a problem though." Claire told him, thoughtfully. He did remember some of his time on the island at least. "What do you remember exactly?"

"The crash. I remember waking up in the jungle, and I remember you and Hurley under the wing of the plane. I remember Ethan, when he hung Charlie and kidnapped you. I remember the hatch," her eyes fell back onto the clothes in front of her, realizing he didn't know the hatch was long gone. "And I remember every death on this island." It figured that he would fixate on his failures.

"But you don't remember Kate and Sawyer?" She tried one more time, and he shook his head, confirming her words. That was one thing she didn't understand the most. Of all the people on the island they were the two Jack had the most contact with. They were captured together for God's sake. He should remember them if anyone.

"Should I? I mean is there some particular reason I should know who they are?" He sounded so utterly clueless that she had to take pity on him.

Claire didn't really know what to tell him. Kate was…there was a time where the thought of the two of them not ending up together seemed ludicrous. Her behavior when she first came back went along the same lines. She wanted to go after him, Claire could tell, but she didn't know how to go about it without getting them both killed. Kate and Sawyer may have been together off and on for the past few years but sometimes she could see Kate blank out when she was with him. Like she wasn't really seeing him. And Sawyer seemed to be Jack's worst enemy one day and his friend the next. They had a love/hate thing going that she couldn't really put into words.

A part of her thought telling him all that at once might be too much. Especially because none of it was concrete; most of it was just keen observation. It was risky to tell him about his relationship with Kate now that she was with Sawyer. If it triggered his memory…Claire didn't want to be responsible for bringing the green eyed monster out to play.

"You just," she paused, trying to convey her meaning as well as possible, "You were close with both of them. When the Others took you captive," he winced but she continued on, "they took them too. They escaped not long after." She left out the part about Jack cutting a deal with the Others to allow Kate and Sawyer to escape, because it was all word of mouth.

He frowned, his brows knitting together in frustration. "Then why don't I remember them? It doesn't even seem familiar to me." He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, both an effort to clear his mind and a sign that he was tired. She wasn't surprised by the latter. She could only imagine what he'd been through to get back here. "How can I just forget people?"

"I don't know," she replied, wishing she had a better answer to give him. "Why don't you try and sleep on it. Maybe some of it will start to come back to you." She said, even though she doubted her own words. It didn't work that way. But she guessed Jack was exhausted enough to buy it since he nodded in agreement. "I've got to go find Aaron but I'll be back in a little while."

"Alright." He replied, stretching out and resting his head up against one of the bags she had shoved away. She got the impression that he could pretty much sleep anywhere at this point. His eyes closed easily and she knew he'd be out in mere minutes.

She rose to leave, stopping and turning back to him with a warning. "Don't go anywhere okay. We'll let everyone know you're back when we've sorted out your memories. When you're ready."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, a small smile on his lips, eyes still closed. She had to smile to herself just a little bit as she left.

---

"Charlie!" She shouted, thirty feet from where he sat with his guitar, still in good condition despite the island, strumming away like he didn't have a care in the world. Charlie went somewhere when he had guitar in his hands and it usually took quite a bit of prodding to bring him back to reality. He could carry on a whole conversation and not hear anything that was being said. Not enough to recount it later anyway.

His hand snapped her way, and his fingers stilled. "Claire. I didn't even know you were back." He set the guitar down and stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Did you find anything?"

She briefly considered telling him. It would be a good idea to let someone else in on this whole secret. Of course it would help if said person could keep their mouth shut. That alone immediately knocked Charlie out of the running. She would deal with that later. For now she would lie. "No, I didn't. Which is exactly what I told you. He was probably just making up stories to see if you'd believe him." It surprised her how easily the words fell from her lips. It shouldn't be this easy to lie to him. She caught the relief on his face. "Where's Aaron?"

"Oh, he's napping in there," he nodded to the shelter they stood outside of. "I managed to tire out the little bugger. Finally." In all honesty it seemed to have worked both ways. Aaron had just given in quicker.

"Do you think you could keep an eye on him for a little longer today? I've got some things to do." She propositioned, setting him up a bit. "He likes you anyway and if he's as tired out as you say then he shouldn't be too much trouble. I hate to ask you but –"

Charlie held up a hand, "Claire, if it's alone time you're after you can just say so. I don't mind. We all need a break now and then, and most of us aren't loaded down with as much responsibility as you. He can stay the night if you need."

He took the bait. She smiled, a little at herself, a little at him. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"No problem luv." The term of endearment slipped in there and she noticed it even if he didn't. She bit her lip, but shook it off. He did that with a lot of the females here anyway. It didn't mean anything.

She turned to start off back to her shelter, when she looked back at him, "Oh and Charlie." He looked up, raising an eyebrow. "The laundry was a nice touch. Who knew you could fold better than I can." If she had been looking she would've seen him blush crimson at her retreating form.

---

She was there when he awoke, curled up on an airline seat, with a book she had taken from Sawyer's stash. He had pack-ratted a lot of the books from the hatch before it blew up. Since then she had been slowly working her way through the books she hadn't read before. It passed time, something they had a lot of on this island.

"That one's from the hatch isn't it?" He observed, and she put the book down on the ground next to her, nodding her head. "I remember reading it when I was down there taking care of…" he trailed off, having to search his mind for the name, "I can't even remember who it was."

"Sawyer," she told him, noting that at least he'd recalled the situation. "Sawyer got shot by the Others. You fixed him. Do you remember that?"

He furrowed his brow, sitting up and nodding his head slowly. "I think so. He was delirious, and it didn't look like he was going to make it for a while." Jack looked up at her, as if he had no idea where this was all coming from.

A smile tugged at her lips, "Yeah. That's good. See some of it's starting to come back. Is there anything else you can remember?"

Solemnly he shook his head. "No." Disappointment shot through her, but not surprise. "I don't understand it. Memory loss is usually caused by head trauma but I don't have any injuries. And it's isolated which makes even less sense."

"Did the Others drug you? They used to shoot me up with a bunch of stuff. A vaccine or something." She asked, recalling the various needles she had been prodded with during her short stay with them.

"No. But they took blood from me a few times. Never really told me why other than they were running tests." She located the bandage on the inside of his elbow, deducing that they must have taken it recently. Thinking back she had seen something similar on Kate after her homecoming. Not on Sawyer though.

"Tests for what?" She asked. He shrugged his answer. Even if he knew he wasn't about to share and so she moved on to her next question. "How did you escape?"

A dark look passed over his features and she could tell there was a reason he had been skirting the issue. They hadn't just set him free; he had to have done something to escape. Whatever it was it wasn't anything particularly pleasant. She wondered who he had killed to gain his freedom. Claire didn't get a chance to find out, interrupted by the commotion that started up outside. She could make out Sayid's voice and she realized the group that had gone out earlier in the day had probably come back.

"I'll be right back. John's group is back." She lifted the tarp she used as a door slightly to peek out at the scene playing out not too far outside, before looking back at him. He gave a silent nod that confirmed he wasn't going anywhere and she walked out quickly, making her way across the sand.

A small group had gathered, including Hurley and Desmond, around the newly returned survivors, back from their latest jungle expedition. Upon closer examination she noticed that they were minus two people. Locke, Sayid, Kate, and Sawyer had all gone into the jungle, but only the former two stood before her. She searched the beach for them but when she came up empty she felt her chest tighten, fearing the worst.

"You guys are back early," Nikki said, and Claire saw her push her way toward the front of the group. Ever since Locke had made the mistake of letting her go searching for Eko with him and a few others she always wanted to be involved. She hadn't yet accepted that she wasn't part of the island's own personal A-Team. Claire could tell it irritated Sayid, though it didn't seem to bother Locke all that much. Every time Nikki wanted to come along there was an uneasy conversation between the two, that dangled on the edge of all out fight. "What happened?"

"John claims it's going to storm soon. He thought perhaps we should come back to camp to avoid getting caught in the storm." Sayid looked over at Locke cautiously. The man always knew when it was going to rain. Always. It wasn't something anyone could really explain other than saying he was very attuned to nature.

"What happened to Kate and Sawyer?" Claire caught Locke's eye when she asked, knowing he would give her an answer.

"Kate chose not to take my advice and stay behind instead. She figures we were out too far to turn back. Sawyer elected to stay behind with her. Make sure she stays out of trouble." Locke didn't sound especially surprised by this, as well he shouldn't be. Kate defied his authority every chance she got, mostly since he had taken over Jack's place in the island's social hierarchy. There was resentment there, even though Locke hadn't really done anything wrong. She'd hate to see what would go on between Locke and Jack once Jack got back on his feet.

---

When the group dispersed and the camp calmed Claire trailed after Locke, as he headed back to his own shelter. She didn't know much about memory loss other than what Libby had told her. Most of that she didn't even remember. She needed someone who might know more on the subject than she did.

"John, do you have a moment?" She asked, catching up with him as he came to a stop by the sturdy structure he'd built over a year ago.

He turned to face her and set his backpack down, starting to unload it. "Of course. What can I help you with Claire?" She watched him take out several hunting knives and place them back in the same case they'd been in since before the crash. It stopped unnerving her and started making her feel more comfortable in camp, knowing there were people there that were more than capable of defending the camp if need be.

"What do you know about memory loss?" The way he looked over at her, cautiously, made it hard for her to keep her eyes level with his instead of on the ground under her feet.

"I thought your memories had come back awhile ago." He replied, clicking the locks on the case shut and putting it inside his shelter. They were three digit combinations that only he knew so he wasn't normally all that worried about where he left the case.

"Well they did. I mean mostly anyway. I just –" she stumbled her way through the sentence, stopping to collect herself. It was hard to come up with a valid excuse that didn't seem suspicious. "I just want to know what caused me to lose them in the first place."

He contemplated that for a moment, leaning up against a tree with arms crossed over his chest. "Why are you asking me this?"

She shrugged. "You always seem to know something about everything." Claire wasn't really sure why she'd gone to him. He just seemed to be the authority on all things weird. Plus, even if he questioned her motives, he would inform the entire camp of her queries like some others might.

Locke mulled that over, and then nodded his head slowly. "It could be caused by any number of things. Given the trauma that must have occurred, being kidnapped after all of this – the crash, not to mention your pregnancy – I wouldn't be surprised if it was simply repression."

"That's like making yourself forget stuff right?" She tried.

"Not exactly. It's not a conscious decision. It's essentially a defense mechanism that eventually backfires. People have been known to repress memories as a form of denial. Sometimes it's a way of dealing with loss of a loved one. Sometimes it's a horrific event that occurred at childhood – abuse or even seeing something you shouldn't. Other times it's a way of ridding the mind of something it just can't handle."

Claire tried to think of a way to relate it back to Jack. She couldn't without knowing what happened to him in the Others camp, not fully. But it made sense now, that he would forget the two of them. Whatever had happened to them in captivity, whatever had kept Sawyer and Kate quiet all these years, was traumatic enough to make Jack forget. Or try to anyway.

"The memories usually crop back up with time," he continued, "usually after triggered by some small detail reminiscent of the event. I believe when Aaron get sick you remembered the vaccine they had given you. That led to a recovery of your memories. At least partially. When they do it can affect the person at a higher level then it did with you. Some are plagued with flashbacks of the event or events that were repressed." He was starting to sound like a textbook. He knew far too much on the subject. Not that she was about to complain. Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

"How long usually before they come back on their own?" Jack seemed to be gaining back some of his memories, or at least connecting things when it came to Sawyer, but it was forced.

"Sometimes days. Months. A man was convicted of a murder that happened twenty years prior based on testimony given by a witness who'd repressed memories of the murder since childhood. It all depends on whether the person is willing to open themselves up. If they want to remember. They mind has to be ready." He paused, shifting his weight and getting that curious look on his face again. "So, what is this really about?" 

Her eyes darted up, widening slightly against her will. Still, she continued with her lie, hoping to avoid a confrontation. "I told you. I wanted to know why I lost my memory. No one ever really explained that to me. Or at least not as well as you just did."

She knew by the way his eyes narrowed, nearly undetectably, that he didn't believe her. And really she hadn't expected him to. He was much too smart for that. What she did expect was for him to leave it alone for the time being. She would just have to be wary around him until this whole thing with Jack was over and done with. It was worth it in the end if she got the information she needed. When he didn't reply she took it as her cue to leave.

"Well thanks a lot. You've been a lot of help. But I've got to get back to Aaron. He should be up from his nap soon and you know how he is." It was a half-truth. Aaron would be waking from his nap soon but she wouldn't be there when he did. She wasn't going back to Jack either. No, Claire had other errands to run first.

As she turned on her heel, on her way in the general direction of where she knew her son lay sleeping, planning to change routes once his piercing stare was off her, she heard him call out to her. "Whatever it is that you're keeping secret," she froze, "it would be wise to tell someone about it."

She threw a glance back at him over her shoulder. She wanted to tell him that really she wasn't keeping secrets. She just wanted to know. But she couldn't force the words past her lips. There was no point in them. They would just be more chances for him to try and get the truth out of her. He was manipulative, sneaky, and new how to spin a person's words just enough to get them to spill the whole truth as they tried to defend and correct. She needed out of this conversation. So she kept walking and didn't answer at all.

---

Dusk had settled over the camp by the time she returned to her own shelter. People were back from the caves or the jungle in anticipation of the dark. The beach was busy, filled with people congregating together to eat their dinner, to sprawl out in the cool sand in front of the crackling fires. No one looked her way when she slipped inside, a black duffel bag in hand along with a smaller, more significant item that she put down in safekeeping as soon as she entered.

When she looked back up, expecting to find Jack fast asleep once more, she found that she was alone. The blanket laid out was rumpled, signs that he had indeed been there. She wasn't just having a rather prolonged dream. It was warm to the touch, she noticed, a sign that he'd been there recently as well. Setting down the bag in her arms, she was about to go look for him when the tarp rustled and Jack slipped in.

"Hey," He said, with a smile, heading back to the corner he'd previously occupied, like nothing had happened.

"Where were you? I told you not to go anywhere." She asked him, taking the mothering tone usually restricted for Aaron. Then again, this was a conversation she'd once had with him too. Her son was always wandering off somewhere.

"I can't stay cooped up in here all day. I do have to leave occasionally. For personal reasons." He waited for her to pick up on his train of thought and when she finally did she flushed. Spotting the bag she brought in, he asked, "What's that?"

"Your old stuff." She said, tossing the bag towards him which he caught with ease. Quicker reflexes, she noticed. "Clothes and stuff I think. I didn't really go through it."

He unzipped the bag and rummaged through it, like he was checking to see if his recollection was correct. "This is great. Thanks. I'm surprised this stuff is still intact. Figured people would've gone through it by now." She bit down on her lower lip, a nervous tick of hers, and he glanced up. "Where did you get this from?"

"Someone had put it aside. I guess they thought you would be coming back for it." She lied, with a touch of regret. Reality was she had found it in Kate's shelter, tucked away where most people wouldn't find it unless they knew what they were looking for. Claire knew she had it. Nobody would go through Jack's stuff—it just seemed wrong somehow—so she knew someone had to have stashed his luggage somewhere. Kate was the logical choice. "Guess they were right."

He hung his head, and she sat down across from him. "Aaron's staying with Charlie tonight but I've got to take him off Charlie's hands in the morning or else he'll start to get worried. I don't know how good Aaron is at keeping secrets." She hadn't really thought this through beforehand, a fact that she regretted now.

"If they find out then so be it. I don't mind Claire. I really don't. I'm not even sure why you're hiding me right now." He told her.

"I'm hiding you because I remember what it was like for me when I came back. Everyone stared. I mean, they stared enough to begin with but after I came back…Charlie was the only one who could stand to be around me for the first few days." She sighed, starting at the tarp that served as a wall. "If they know you're back they are going to want to know what happened while you were gone. How you escaped. And you don't seem to want to talk about that."

Jack looked up guiltily, like he thought he was being subtler than he really was. He'd been beating around the bush every time she brought up the reasons behind his return. "I don't want to think about that just yet."

"Maybe that's why you can't remember them. You don't want to. Locke says that you won't regain your memory until you're ready. Until you want to." She echoed Locke's words from earlier, surprised at how easy she found the connection.

"Locke? You told Locke?" He asked, incredulously. "What happened to this whole secret thing?"

"I didn't tell him." She reassured, shaking her head. "I asked him about memory loss and what could cause it. I told him I wanted to know why I lost mine. That's when he told me that it was repression, that I was blocking it from my mind. So I think it's along the same lines for you." She left out the part about Locke knowing that she was using her own amnesia as a smokescreen. Locke would leave it alone unless otherwise provoked. It wasn't necessary for Jack to know, it would just make him antsier.

"I want to remember, believe me." He protested, irritated by her words. "I remembered Sawyer was sick, that he'd gotten shot."

"Yeah but do you remember anything else?" She locked eyes with him and he held her gaze for a moment before he faltered. "I didn't think so." The words came out harsher than they were meant. Reaching into a suitcase of hers that sat along the wall, she pulled out the tiny object she'd removed from Kate's tent and held it out for him to take.

Frown lines creased his forehead as he tentatively lifted the small toy airplane from her open palm. He looked at it like one would at a partially forgotten toy from childhood. The significance of it seemed to be ready and waiting on the tip of his tongue.

"Do you know what this is?" She asked cautiously, watching him run his fingers over the smooth wings slowly.

He didn't look up at her for a long moment, keeping his focus on the small object. Concentration colored his face but recognization never came. "Whose is it?"

"It's Kate's," she replied, still not drawing his eyes away from the plane. "And if she finds out it's missing she's going to go off the deep end so I'll have to get it back soon. Before she comes back from the hike."

"What does it…why does she have it?" Jack asked, rubbing at the numbers on the right wing. 5025. Claire wondered if it meant something.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if anyone does. But it means something to her so I thought if anyone would know it would be you." She reasoned, not blind to the fact that Kate had let her guard down around Jack more than any of the other survivors. "I don't think it's hers, I think it's someone else's. Someone important to her."

_It belonged to the man I killed._

Jack snapped back at that, dropping the plane into the sand with a soft plop. Her eyes flitted to his in concern, wondering what she said. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he responded far too quickly to be serious. "Just put that back so you don't get caught with it."

Carefully she picked it back up, frowning. "What is it that you remember?"

"Nothing," he repeated, "I don't—just…" he trailed, looking away from her to focus his eyes elsewhere. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't want to remember. Maybe I'm not ready." He sounded defeated, resigned to it.

"Jack, that's not," she took a deep breath, "that isn't an option. We need you here and we need you to remember." She was not going to all this trouble just so he could give up because he didn't like whatever he was remembering. The Jack she knew wasn't a quitter.

"Everyone was fine without me for three years. Things are running fine here. You don't need me." His eyes were transfixed on the tarp, where flames and shadows danced. She could make out Vincent's form not too far outside, and she was relieved that he was the only one listening in. "If I'm really repressing these memories then there's got to be a reason why. There had to be a good reason and maybe I should just leave well enough alone." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have come back."

Claire bit her lip and leaned up against the one solid wall, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere with him tonight. He was dead set against it for one reason or another. She looked down at the object in her hands and wondered what the plane stood for that made Jack so quick to accept defeat.

---

Hours later, and the rain that Locke had predicted was coming down in buckets outside. The sound of it didn't affect her – she'd been stranded here for too many years to mind a little rain – but the thought of what she was hiding kept her wired. A few feet away Jack lay on his side, pretending to sleep. There was nothing for her to say so she let him keep thinking he was pulling one over on her. This was a game Aaron often played. It was startling how many parallels she could draw between her son and Jack.

She didn't know what to do with him. It was becoming more and more obvious that she was in over her head. As much of a people person as she was – as good with them as she was – she still didn't know how to handle him. She couldn't force him to remember if he didn't want to. Claire wished, not for the first time, that she had some sort of guidance.

"…always like this but you have to be so frickin' stubborn…" her ears strained to pick up the sound. The voice was distinctly southern, Sawyer's no doubt, but it was hard to make out full sentences over the pouring rain.

"He's not always right. You're just upset that you got wet." Kate, fortunately, was yelling over the storm, as Claire could hear them get closer to her tent, entering into the main part of the encampment. "Guess what Sawyer, you aren't going to melt."

Claire hadn't expected them to be back until morning but apparently the storm had forced them to find their way back to the beach. She could see Kate's form pass by, a shadow on the tarp, and shortly after Sawyer too followed.

"…there something wrong?" A third voice, Sayid's, entered into the equation. Apparently the trio didn't care who they were waking up. Although if people could sleep through this rainstorm the shouting would pale in comparison.

"We were on lower ground, it flooded out," Kate responded, and she could picture the woman's scowl. She seemed ticked off at something, most likely Sawyer or the rain. Or both.

"Locke said it would rain but you –" Sawyer's voice abruptly cut off and if Claire didn't know better she would've thought Kate had thrown something at him. She'd done it twice before, both times in a desperate effort to shut him up. However now she probably had settled for aiming one of her death glares at him. That worked just as well.

"Dude, people are trying to sleep here," Hurley's voice came from one of the tents not far from hers. That seemed to quiet them down for a few moments and Claire relaxed, thinking they were probably done for the night.

That put a wrench in her plans. She still had Kate's plane, and Jack was still clueless about his past experiences with them. She had hoped to have triggered his memory before they returned. No such luck. Glancing over at him he remained still, even if his body appeared locked up. Definitely not sleeping. She had half a mind to ask who he thought he was fooling but ignored the urge.

Overhead the crack of thunder could be heard, almost perfectly timed with Kate's shout of, "Get out!" and Claire rolled over trying to force sleep to come.

---

"You guys sure made a lot of noise last night." Claire began, dropping down into the damp sand by the shore just after the sun had risen. She hadn't slept a wink. Kate was already seated there, with a pensive look on her face, eyes fixed on the waves that crashed. The ocean was angry, and Claire wondered if they should really be sitting this close to shore. "Is everything okay?"

Kate didn't look at her but nodded, "Yeah. Everything's fine." Claire could tell by the way she bit out fine that everything was not actually fine. "He just…he's just hard to deal with sometimes. I've been with too many guys like him and I didn't think that I'd be here again. I guess old habits die hard right."

Claire swallowed, noting the opening Kate had left there. It was a perfect opportunity to feel Kate out as far as her feelings toward Jack. "You thought you would end up with Jack."

Finally, her head whipped around, ponytail lashing in the wind. It was most likely the first time anyone had gotten up the guts to say that name to her in a good year. Claire simply stared back at her, and watched Kate drop her eyes to the sand, leaving her question unanswered.

"Do you miss him?" Claire tried again, even though she knew she was pushing Kate away the more she forced the conversation. From past experience she knew that the more you tried to get into her head the quicker she built up walls around herself. The quicker she ran.

Kate kept her eyes on the ground, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I miss him." Unlike her face, her tone was emotionless. "But he's never coming back, so it doesn't matter." The other woman drew herself now, a sign that she was through with this conversation. Claire wasn't about to let that deter her.

Up the beach, she heard a shout and she looked back in the direction the sound had come from with a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Jack!" Charlie's voice took on a higher pitch and he yelled loud enough to wake up the entire camp. "Jack's back!"

Frantically, Kate looked over at her. "You knew?" Claire's eyes widened and she rose, ignoring Kate's calls for her as she ran up to her tent. People were coming out of their shelters, awakened by Charlie's shouting, made curious by the nature of the calls.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" She asked, coming between Charlie, who had now exited the shelter, and the entrance.

"Jack's back!" He said, bouncing a bit the way Aaron did when he was a baby. "He's right in there, in your…" he trailed and some of the cheer seemed to go out of him. "Claire?"

"Claire, what's going on?" Asked Sayid's calm voice, wary in spite of it. Half the camp was gathered, surrounding where her and Charlie stood. They all looked at her with varying degrees of confusion and accusation.

"I…" she started, but found herself unable to continue. What exactly was she supposed to say to them? She hadn't planned for this. For any of this. They weren't supposed to find out yet.

Behind her, the flap of her shelter opened, and she felt Jack come out, putting himself in front of her and therefore into the spotlight. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Her eyes shifted to Kate, who was making her way towards them. Sawyer watched her too, shoulders tensed.

"Jack?" Kate asked, voice wavering. He just stared at her blankly, and Claire bit her lip, unable to watch this. She knew it couldn't end well. "Jack…where…how…?" Kate was forming a lot of questions and apparently was having a hell of a time trying to figure out which ones to ask. Jack stopped regarding her, shifted his gaze elsewhere and she was just positively devastated by the lack of recognition. She was no one to him.

"He doesn't remember you." Locke spoke up, suddenly, and Claire looked his way to find him staring right back. "He's repressed his memories of you, and I'm guessing some others. Other than Claire of course."

People were looking at her again, and Jack was still quiet, overwhelmed. "He doesn't remember you," she addressed this to Kate, repeating Locke's words, then adding, "Or Sawyer."

Kate frowned, and Claire could see tears in her eyes. She was staring at Jack like she could make him remember her. Like she needed him to remember her. But Jack was focused elsewhere, and kind of glaring at Locke. Claire watched the older man lock eyes with Jack and when she looked back to Kate the brunette was gone. She followed Sawyer's gaze and got a quick glimpse of Kate as she disappeared past the tree line, into the jungle.

"How long have you been keeping this a secret?" Sayid asked, taking on a tone that she liked even less when it was directed her way. Not that she thought he would do anything; it was more what she thought he was capable of.

"Since yesterday morning," she mumbled, not quite loud enough for the entire group to hear her, though the people pertinent to this conversation could. "I found him wandering around the jungle."

Sayid crossed his arms. "And you didn't see it fit to inform us of your discovery why?" A few people echoed his sentiments, though the voices seemed disembodied and Claire couldn't pick them out in the crowd.

Finally Jack ended his staring contest with Locke, deciding to put his two cents in. "Alright, Sayid, everyone, just calm down. Claire did what she thought was right here."

"What gives her the authority to decide what is right or wrong? She never consulted any of us." Locke let that one lie, the words having no visible affect on him whatsoever. Apparently the fact that she had indeed come to him, though somewhat indirectly, was worth bringing up. "We don't even know why or how you came back. In all fairness Jack, you could be working with the Others. Worse you could be a target. If you escaped they could want you back. These are things we, all of us, need to know. So what gives her the right to keep this knowledge to herself?"

Locke stepped in before Jack, or Claire, could say anything to the contrary. "Sayid has a point Jack. It's odd that, after almost three years since your disappearance, you simply show up here. It certainly raises a few questions. And for Claire to keep that from us one has to wonder what else she's kept from us in the past, or will in the future."

While Jack could obviously take a lot from Sayid, Locke didn't have that standing with him. "You want to talk about secrets John? You really want to get into the hatch? And Boone?" Locke's jaw tightened and, satisfied that he had shut the man up for the time being, Jack looked back to Sayid. "You can't blame Claire for the choices she made – for split second judgments. She thought she was doing what was in my best interests. Who knows what any of you would've done in the same situation. Under the same pressure."

Sayid never lost his strong stance, remnants of years spent in the Republican Guard, but his face softened ever so slightly and he lost some of the animosity. He turned into an attack dog automatically; it was in his nature.

"As far as how I got back: I escaped. I didn't sneak away calmly either. I'm not going to go into detail about what happened while I was there, or how I left. It's not important and, frankly, it's not anyone's business." Jack continued on, and Claire was relieved that he was managing to take all the focus off of her. It meant a lot that he was throwing himself to the lions so she didn't have to take it. "And I don't know if they're coming for me or not. I'm still not completely sure what they wanted from me in the first place. Why they wanted to keep me."

"Us," Sawyer corrected, stepping forward, coming right into the thick of things instead of standing in the back like he had been since this whole thing had started. She had been wondering how long it would take before he made his presence known. "What they wanted from us."

Jack looked at her again, a plea for help, and she cut in. "He doesn't know what you're talking about. Whatever happened to the three of you – I don't know all of it because not one of you will tell us anything – it must have turned out worse for Jack. Your body's natural reaction to that can sometimes be to black out events, sometimes entire people. So he doesn't know that you were taken with him. He didn't even know you existed a day ago."

"Whatever is missing from Jack's memories will come back with time. I'm going to take the liberty of guessing that what Claire has been attempting to do during all of this is trigger his memory, in hopes that it would return before anyone knew he was back." It worried her, not unreasonably, that he had read her like a book. And that he had done a complete 180 from barely a minute ago. "While what she did was ill advised to say the least, she had good intentions. There's no reason to put anybody on trial."

With the camp's resident voice of authority having spoken, the group as a whole seemed to decide that maybe it was best to break up and let things be handled in a less public forum type of way. Truth was most people didn't want to take the time to get involved in the politics of the island. Locke and Sayid made the decisions, Paulo and Nikki got in the way, Hurley informed people of the important gossip, and so on. They all had their roles now. Jack had just been dropped in the midst of that, not looking for a way in and yet gaining one anyway. Just like before.

Claire let out a long sigh as she watched her fellow survivors separate and disperse around the camp, hoping that the worst part of this charade was finally over. At least she didn't have to hide anymore. _They _didn't have to hide anymore, she corrected herself, feeling the strong hand that landed softly on her shoulder, tentatively, reassuringly.

---

"You can stay here as long as you need you know. I don't want to put you out or anything." Claire told him, later that day, eyes locked on her son who played nearby with Sun's toddler. They were inside her shelter, although the flap was opened to let in the light and to allow for her to keep an eye on Aaron. She would've been outside enjoying the nice day but Jack drew stares and so he had chosen to hide away from the prying eyes. She felt bad about leaving him alone, so she too found herself cooped up in the tent.

Jack looked over at her, "Thanks, but I'll be out of your hair tomorrow hopefully. You've got Aaron to worry about and I need something to keep me busy. Might as well focus my energies on building a new shelter, getting situated back here." She was pleased to note that some of his business-like mentality was back. On other people it would be a bad sign, a sign that the person was ignoring all their emotions and pushing everyone away, but from what she knew of Jack that was just the way he was normally. Concerned about shelter, and food, and safety.

"Alright, if that's what you want to do. Just don't feel pressured to get out or anything." She said, wanting him to know that she was there for him if he needed her. People would probably be pretty cautious around him both because of where he'd been and who he'd been with, the fact that he used to be their leader notwithstanding. "And don't worry about Aaron. He likes being around people and Charlie takes him most afternoons."

"You and Charlie finally…" he started, thinking out loud, before realizing himself, and ducking his head, "you two finally got together?"

She let out a breathy laugh, but shook her head. "No, we're not. I mean we were for awhile but it just didn't—" Claire found herself unable to finish her sentence because there really was no end. They worked fine, the same as they did now even. The only difference was that they weren't physical and they didn't sleep in the same tent. Her only issue had been that he smothered her. "There were problems," she settled for, "and we just decided it was for the best at the time."

"At the time?" Jack asked, with raised eyebrows, and a playful look on his face.

"That doesn't mean it doesn't still apply now." She answered, uncomfortable with the topic, but going along with it only for his sake. When he fell silent again, instead of pushing further, she decided to switch to something less his cup of tea. "Kate's probably going to be hanging around you a lot. Knowing her she'll probably push until she gets what she wants. And you may not like where that leads but just try not to be too distant." Claire felt it necessary to warn him of this, in an attempt to save pain for both parties involved.

Predictably, he lost his relaxed posture, and she saw his eyes find the same spot where the airplane had been hidden away last night. It still was; she hadn't been able to sneak it back to Kate's tent yet. "I think I may already have an idea where it's going to lead."

The tone he took gave her an idea. "The plane has something to do with her being a fugitive doesn't it?" It was risky to ask because if she was wrong then she was introducing new information that was a harsher blow than it would be once he got a feel for Kate. But Jack had known about Kate before any of them and he hadn't told a soul then, so it was unlikely that he would just come out and say it without knowing if it was public knowledge or not.

His eyes widened but then quickly returned to form, and he nodded. "It belonged to the man I killed." Claire frowned, confused by his word choice, causing him to elaborate. "I remembered her – Kate – saying that as soon as I picked up that plane. And I just keep thinking, do I really want to remember someone like that? If it was bad enough to forget to I even want to try without thinking about the consequences of it?"

It was the same thing he'd said the previous night except this time it was more of a question, said openly instead of definitively. "Even though I don't know what she did or what happened that caused you to erase her, forgetting all that for a moment, I know that she cared about you. She still does. Despite what she's done in her past she's a good person deep down. Take that into consideration before you write her off as someone to avoid."

The thought that maybe she made him feel bad crossed her mind as she observed the various emotions flickering across his face -- regret, guilt, and finally sadness. That hadn't been her goal. Still he nodded, "Fair enough." It wasn't very enthusiastic but it was a start. He started to rise, but then he stopped, finding something of interest on the name tag that was miraculously still attached to her suitcase. Her initials were tattooed on the back of it, the rest of the information upside down and hidden from him. "Claire what's your last name?"

She wrinkled her nose, thinking it a funny question for him to be asking, but answering anyway. "Littleton." Jack's face broke into a soft smile, which he promptly tried to hide by looking away from her. "Why?"

He shook his head, still with the unusual smile on his face, and rose, replying. "No reason." If ever there had been a moment in which she had realized he was a horrible liar it was this one; he was transparent. "I'm going to go talk to Sayid, see if he knows where I can get a spare tarp to rig up a shelter. I'll be back later."

"Jack," she said, still wanting an answer, but he just walked away, glancing back quickly before shaking his head and continuing on his way. It made her curious. Why did he seem to find it so funny? Down the beach she heard her son give a yelp and she made a mental note to grill Jack for answers, just before running to her son's aid.

---

Sayid was easy to find, standing out in plain sight talking with an older man Jack didn't know. The man said something Jack couldn't hear and Sayid gestured somewhere off to his left, apparently explaining something. Jack watched the man nod his head and start if in that direction. Sayid sighed and shook his own head, looking over the beach with the same stressed expression that used to take up residence on his face before he was captured by the Others, his eyes finally landing on Jack himself.

"Jack," the other man said, coming closer so as to meet him half way. "I'm surprised you've been so reclusive today. I would've thought you'd have quite a lot of catching up to do."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well considering the welcoming party this morning I thought laying low might be a better option right now."

Sayid didn't look away but he lowered his eyes ever so slightly, a sign of regret maybe. "We are all just concerned and surprised. We have not come into contact with the Others since your disappearance and I think I speak for everyone when I say we would like to keep it that way."

"I understand that Sayid, I really do. I know right now you're thinking about the safety of the group. But I know why they brought me there, at least originally, and I did what they wanted. They were keeping me for no reason." Fixing Ben had been the main goal or so he'd been told, but he'd done that early on and yet they still kept for years afterward. Like they were scared he knew too much.

"Yes, and that's all well and good but what I worry about is that you escaped rather than being released by them. Your unwillingness to speak on that matter, in addition to what we already know of those people, tells me there are going to be repercussions." Sayid paused, with reluctance Jack noticed. "It's not as if we're going to send you back to them. I for one would just like to know what we're up against."

There just wasn't any getting around this Jack realized. Sayid wanted answers and he wasn't one to walk away without them like Locke might if you fought him hard enough. Lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, he came closer to Sayid, so as no one but the two of them could hear the conversation. "I got a hold of one of their guns and I took out three of them on the way out of their camp. They value their people the same as we do ours." He locked gazes with Sayid just then, to drive the point home.

There was a moment of silence that followed and Jack worried that he'd said too much. Then, calmly, Sayid pulled back, understanding written on his face. "So we're looking at revenge then."

"What, we going after Ben and company already?" Sawyer cut in as they both looked over at him. Clearly he hadn't heard the previous exchange, which was of some comfort to Jack, who wasn't at all ready to announce the fact that he was once again a murderer to the world.

Sayid looked at Jack, at Sawyer, and back again, all with the careful eye of a parent just waiting for a fight to break out between two siblings. Jack had no intentions of doing anything with this man he barely remembered as Sawyer. Finally he said, "I have some place to beat the moment but we can continue this conversation soon Jack." All it took was a nod from Jack and Sayid was gone, leaving him and Sawyer alone.

"Gee, Doc, you're only back a day and already you're playing with the big boys again." Sawyer said, the uncomfortableness Jack was feeling almost undetectable on his part. The nickname was annoying but oddly familiar, and Jack could feel a few things start to click into his place in his mind. Memories of rafts and guns, of missing inhalers and torture. It was an enormous jigsaw puzzle and he was finally seeing the outline of the big picture.

"It's not by choice, Sawyer." Jack replied, forcing the name out so he could get used to it. The irritated tone that accompanied the name worked its own way in.

Sawyer raised an eyebrow but shook his head. "So you don't remember us I hear." The 'us' meaning Kate too, Jack guessed, noting the phrasing, as if Sawyer felt they were some kind of unit. He had gotten a different idea from Claire. "You don't remember saving our asses then?" Jack nodded, relatively clueless, and Sawyer gave a half grin that was covering up something else. "Good. That way I don't have to say thank you. Never was very good at that."

Jack had half a mind to tell him that his words were kind of defeating the purpose, but he kept his mouth shut, too busy trying to figure out why Sawyer insisted on standing here asking questions that he already knew the answers to. "Look is there something you want because I've got work to do." It wasn't a lie, he needed to track down building materials and get something set up before nightfall.

"What'd they do to you?" Sawyer asked with a frown. He glanced quickly over at Kate, who Jack could make out down the beach way out of earshot, and Jack took that as a sign that this had all been Kate's idea.

"They did a lot of things to me." Jack answered vaguely. He wasn't up for rehashing three years with someone who was a stranger to him, one he didn't particularly like at the moment.

"Hatch monkey still alive? Did you do the surgery?" It was safe to assume Sawyer wasn't taking the hint; either that or he just didn't care. Jack nodded to satisfy him, keeping silent, wondering where this was going and what he was really looking to get out of this. Without verbal cues though Sawyer seemed to be at a loss, pausing at length before finally asking, "They stick you in one of those cages."

He was about to tell him that yes, they did, and can we be done with this now. The thought of being stuck behind bars again, trapped, made him anxious. Then something struck him. A flash, quick as anything, skin on skin and an old monitor relaying fuzzy images of sleeping figures.

"…that bitch and her friggin' taser gun," he caught the tail end of Sawyer's next sentence, coming back out of his mind with a bit of a start.

"What?" He asked, shaking off the flashes, even though he was really only pushing them to the back of his mind where he could overanalyze them on the nights when he couldn't sleep because he was just waiting for something to go wrong.

"The blonde with the quiet demeanor until someone hands her a gun. She give you any trouble? Seemed like she was the ringleader's right hand woman." The southerner's line of questioning was foreign, disconnected.

"Juliet." Jack corrected quietly, remorse in his voice. Sawyer raised an eyebrow in a manner that suggested something Jack wasn't sure he liked. "She's not –", he sighed, shaking his head at nothing and everything, correcting himself, "She wasn't the person I thought she was."

"Sounds like there's a story there, Cowboy." Sawyer observed, not picking up on the use of past tense, and Jack just let it lie there, starting off down the beach, no destination in mind, just hoping to get rid of his present company. "Do you know why they took us in the first place? Took you for the surgery but what the hell did they need me and Freckles for?"

"Jesus, Sawyer, what the hell do you want from me?" He stopped mid stride spinning to face the man with the shaggy blonde hair, planting his hands on his waist.

This did not faze Sawyer. "Same thing we all want, Doc. Answers. You were with them for three fucking years. You of all people should have them."

"You know I wish I did but I don't. I'm not even perfectly sure the surgery is what they wanted from me. Much less what they wanted from you. I don't remember. Why doesn't anyone understand that?" His voice rose in volume and he was drawing stares from various people along the beach, going about their business.

"Alright, then answer me this." Sawyer began, and Jack could tell that at some point Sawyer had stopped asking questions that beat around the bush and started in on his own agenda. "Why did you come back now? You escaped, but why the hell did you wait so long?"

"I left when I had the opportunity. It's not like I decided I was going to wait three years and then make a break for it." Jack yelled, and he thought that this must have been how things had always been between them because of all the sets of eyes locked on them none of them seemed all that surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sure that made a lovely story for Mohammad," Sayid's eyes flicked over to them as he separated himself from the man he was talking to and came a little closer to the argument, "but he wasn't there. He doesn't know those people. There's no way you made it out of there alive without making some kind of deal. So just cut the crap and – "

"Enough!" Kate shouted, closer to them than Jack had remembered her being a minute ago. Her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed, her expression one half anger, one half disgust. She got in between the two men, who now stood with barely two feet separating them, facing Sawyer with a glare. When he went to move her aside she smacked away his hand. "No, you're done here. You're not doing this."

There was a long moment where Jack didn't know what was going to happen. Sawyer was trying to stand his ground and there was Kate staring him down. Jack wanted to say he could hold his own, that he didn't need her to play referee, but a part of him was curious to see how much power this woman really held over Sawyer. Or what she would do if he didn't back down. She's a fugitive, he reminded himself, wanted on murder charges. There was no telling what actions she might take. Jack didn't know enough about her to predict them. He didn't know anything about her.

Finally, Sawyer took a step back, "Well there's no arguing with the lady now is there." Something in his face changed, unrestrained anger going to calm amusement. It seemed like a mask, and Jack wondered if he was the only one who saw right through the southerner. With the way Kate stayed in place instead of letting up on him, he guessed he wasn't.

Their face-off lasted only a second longer as Sawyer turned and walked away from the scene, rigid posture belying his true feelings about this whole thing. Kate watched him go but didn't turn to face Jack. If she would have, she would've seen the dark haze in his eyes. With her this close, it felt like being shocked, like the air was electric. A part of him wanted to reach out and pull her to him, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. From the way she seemed to almost lean in his direction he knew he wasn't alone.

---

"Can't leave you alone for a second can I?" Claire asked, a few minutes later, as she caught up with him. He'd turned tail and left before Kate could say a single word, and now he was heading towards where the sand met the soil in a messy line. He was trying to get away from everyone, from the fighting and the yelling. She was walking side by side with him now and still he paid her no mind. "Jack, stop."

Instinctually he did and for a second he thought he saw a different blonde staring back at him, with that patient yet disappointed look on her face, the illusion disappearing after he blinked. The look was the same but the eyes that studied him were without agenda.

"I know he's not the most personable one here but he just wants to know what happened. He's just blunt is all." Jack furrowed his brows as if to say 'is that all?'. "You're in his space. This has been his territory for how many years and now the competition is back. Not to mention that while you were gone a lot of people were blaming him for leaving you behind."

"I'm not competition," Jack insisted.

"Yes you are. She defended you over him without a second's pause. They're sleeping together and she's taking the opposite side. It's his territory and you're in it whether you know it or not." He started off again and this time she grabbed hold of his arm, forcefully stopping him. "That doesn't mean you get to run off. It won't be like this for long. He'll get over it. They all will."

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes, mumbling something under his breath that she had to strain her ears to understand. "I shouldn't have come back," she thought he said.

"Don't say that," she told him, more frustrated by the second.

"Why not? I'm only making things worse here. Everyone was doing fine and then I show up and everything goes to hell." He began, and she knew it wouldn't be long until he was yelling again. "The Others are going to come after me; there are going to be consequences to what I did. Do you really want them in this camp? Do you really want to risk Aaron?" She swallowed hard, but her grip on him only tightened, feeling his muscles tense under fingers. Still, she shook her head. "Then let me go."

"So what are you going to do? You're just going to go back there. What does that accomplish? They'll just kill you." She warned him, her words failing to break the resolve on his face. "You can't go back, you can't go back, you can't just give up. We've dealt with the Others before and we can do it again."

"You don't know these people Claire. Believe me, you don't want to." He told her, clinging to that excuse. It was uniform; his defense to everyone.

"I do know them. In case you've forgotten they held me for over a week. You're not the only one who's been through hell before and you're not the only one with baggage. I understand where you're coming from. What it feels like to be hounded with questions you can't answer by people you can barely remember. To be alone in a strange place with a bunch of people coming at you and nowhere to hide; no way to get away. I know." She insisted, her voice rising uncharacteristically. He was acting like he was the only one, like he had special circumstances.

"Claire…" he started, his features calming, and she knew she was finally getting somewhere.

"But you don't give up Jack. I may not know you as well as some of the other people on this island do but I do know how you are. You're a fighter. And don't even try to tell that three years in captivity with those people changed you, because if it had then you wouldn't have gotten out of there in the first place." He stopped resisting her and she let her grip slacken. "Now come back to camp and try to ignore Sawyer. And if that doesn't work I can be remarkably persuasive and send Charlie off to annoy him, keep him out of your hair."

He laughed then, not that crazed laugh from earlier, but a genuine one. "I think it's supposed to be the other way around."

"What is?" She asked, a tad confused by his comment.

There was a mischievous look in his eyes that faded seconds later, and he shook his head. He must not have realized he said it out loud. "Nothing."

"That's the second time you've made some weird comment and then blown it off. What gives?" She said, referring to the incident barely and hour earlier where he asked her last name. Something was going on, and she hadn't an inkling of what it was.

"It's not important."

"Then just go ahead and tell me." She replied, not ready to let this go. Claire was so sick of secrets on this island, and in her own opinion they would be a lot better off without them.

He looked down, unable to meet her eyes. "When I was with the Others they took blood from me a few times. I don't know what they were trying to do, they never told me. Then one day Ben told me I had they found something. That they matched my DNA with someone else here on the island. They wouldn't tell me who, but I got a quick look at my files when Juliet left them out accidentally. The note on it said that I had a half-sister, with the last name of Littleton. There was no first name listed, so I didn't know…" He got the courage to look up at Claire, who just stared back at him with a slightly unnerving expression of half-surprise, half-realization.

"His other family," she said, mostly to herself, recalling a conversation from years ago. Jack gave her a curious look, and she continued. "The man who claimed he was my father – he said he had another family. He came to Australia a few years ago after me and my mum got in a car accident. He paid all the hospital bills, the mortgage on the house."

"You were why he was in Australia." Jack said, things starting to come together, inconsistencies from the past making more sense now. "Mom knew but she wouldn't tell me, just that I had to go after him."

"But he left because he wanted to. He never mentioned you were there."

"No, this wasn't years ago Claire." He stopped her when he realized that they were both talking about different times. "I was on flight 815 because I was bringing him back home to Los Angeles."

She frowned, "He was on the plane?"

It took a few seconds for it to occur to him what she didn't know. "Claire, he's…he died in Australia. A heart attack, probably brought by the drinking – he was an alcoholic. I was bringing him back home to bury him." Her eyes widened, but she nodded, trying her best to process this all. He was throwing possibly life-altering information at her in rapid succession and her head was spinning. "I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to be sorry about. He wasn't my father, he was yours. I barely even knew him, I didn't even…" Her face contorted with something that looked like regret. "I didn't even know his name. I told him I didn't want to know, that I never wanted to see him again, that he didn't care about me."

"It's Christian. Christian Shephard." Jack told her, almost like it would offer her some consolation. He wondered what it must feel like to her to have something dangled in front of you and then snatched back away just as quickly. "And he must've cared, otherwise he wouldn't have flown all the way to Australia to find you. He just…he wasn't real good at showing it. Kind of where I got it from."

She grinned then, looking back up at him with eyes that sparkled. "Aaron has an uncle. I have family for the first time in years." There was relief in her face, and it made him smile back at her. "Well, see, now you have to stay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" But it was said in a joking tone. She had won this round, whether or not he wanted to admit it. "Why's that?"

"Can you imagine the look on people's faces when we tell them? Don't even tell me you don't want to stick around for that."

And truth be told, he kind of did.

---

It was sunset when Charlie wandered over to her tent. Aaron had gotten tired out playing with Sun's daughter, and had been napping since late in the afternoon, giving her plenty of time to occupy. She was attempting to finish the book she'd started the day before, but the lower in the sky the sun got, the harder it was to read. She was going to have to give it up soon.

"You know you'll strain your eyes without decent lighting. I don't think Sayid enjoys making glasses all the time, what with Sawyer losing his four times now." He said, his way of giving a greeting.

She placed the thick leaf she was using as a bookmark inside, and shut it, putting it aside. "Isn't that an old wives tale? Kind of like the one that says going out in chilly weather will give you a cold."

He shrugged, unsure on both matters. "Fair enough." He came to stand next to her, waiting for an invitation to sit down. Sometimes he seemed like he didn't know how to act around her. She nodded, knowing from the start that he wasn't here just to tell her not to ruin her vision. "So it's been quite a day hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has." She replied, smiling almost wistfully when she thought about this new information she'd found out.

"You could've told me you know." Charlie said, looking at her and then down at his hands, stretching his fingers. "About this whole thing with Jack. You could've told me."

"I just thought it was better to keep it to myself. It turned out alright in the end." Claire told him, surprised he was as calm as he was. She had figured he would've gone a little off the deep end about her keeping such a big secret. He tended to overreact.

"Yeah, if you discount that screaming match earlier then everything turned out terrifically." She gave him a warning look, taking note of the sarcasm. "Sorry, just saying you might've saved yourself the inquisition this morning had someone else known."

She licked her lips, contemplating whether she should say what was really on her mind. What the real problem was. If there was one thing this whole fiasco had taught her it was that it was better to just be upfront, than to lie and keep secrets. "Honestly Charlie, it would be a little awkward."

"Awkward?" He asked, raising an eyebrow like he was surprised.

"You know what I'm talking about." From the way he avoided her gaze she knew that he did indeed understand where she was coming from. "Ever since we broke things off all it's been is uncomfortable exchanges and…mumbled greetings. We talk about Aaron, that's it."

"Yeah but it doesn't have to be that way." Charlie replied, and she just gave him an odd look. How could they possibly fix this? This hadn't just been a few weeks like the first time they'd stopped talking towards the beginning of their long stay on the island. This was a year of distance.

"How?" She asked, a challenge almost. "How can we possibly fix this? It's been too long, Charlie. It's just not meant to be."

"Then why did we crash here together? You kept going on about the astrology stuff, and kismet or whatever." He began, and she shot him a look that told him he was putting words in her mouth. Yes, she believed in that sort of thing, but she had never related it back to them. "Look, I'm not saying we're destined to be together or whatever. But to know each other at least right? After all we've been through we're both still here, and we can't seem to avoid each other as much as we both try, what with Aaron and everything else. Maybe we should just start over…forget all this, how bad we seem to have buggered-up everything."

"That's not going to…I mean we can't just go back. There's too much baggage." Claire tried not to make it sound like she was dismissing his idea entirely. He was trying, and he was making as convincing an argument as she had ever seen him make, but still, she just didn't see a happy ending with them. Not now, maybe not ever.

He chuckled, "We have baggage? You want to talk about baggage, just look at our fallen hero over there. Kate's been sitting on that shore watching him the entire day, not saying a word because he can't remember her. And he's completely oblivious, besides the fact that Sawyer hates his guts. They have baggage, not us. It hasn't been three years for us."

Claire looked out at the beach to find Kate was, sure enough, her head turned to watch Jack as he talked with Sayid. Sawyer hadn't gone near her all day, and that was wise enough. She didn't envy anyone in that situation. Charlie wasn't wrong; they had it way better, way easier.

"All I mean is maybe we could try to put it all behind us. We could be friends or something. That's all I'm asking." He reached out to touch her shoulder, carefully, drawing her attention back on him. He really was putting himself out there. "And if it doesn't work, then at least we can say we tried. We didn't just give it up because we had a rocky start. I mean we're on island; we're going to be here awhile. It's not like there's a lot of places to hide. I just think it's best to try and get along. For Aaron's sake." There was confidence in his last words. He knew it would appeal to her, since they both knew that Aaron viewed them as his parents, and the fact that they had just suddenly split up had confused him. It wasn't what she had wanted. "It's up to you."

She glanced back out at Jack, watched him give Kate a look, lock eyes with her, and then turn away. She watched the woman's face fall. Claire knew Kate was lonely; that Sawyer wouldn't be there for her to lean on because he was too busy nursing his own hurt pride.

She didn't want to be lonely. She didn't want to be in that situation, with no one to go to. No one left.

"Okay," she said, before she even made the conscious decision. Claire found his eyes, which lit up at that single word. Full of hope. "Okay, I can do that. I can do friends."

"Really?" Charlie asked, testing her, making sure she was serious one last time.

"Yeah," she responded, her voice more certain the more she said it. She wanted this; she was tired of hiding. A grin broke out on his face. "We can give it a try."

---

He couldn't just watch her sit there and not do anything. She'd been sitting on the shore, bare feet digging into the sand, and when the tide came in it washed over them just barely. Jack knew she had been watching him. She wasn't trying to be obvious about it; she was trying to act like she was just scanning the beach. They both knew better than that.

Jack didn't understand her. There was too much missing; Kate was only another mystery to him.

_I know that she cared about you. She still does. Take that into consideration before you write her off as someone to avoid._

Claire's words made him feel like he had some sort of responsibility. Say something. Anything. He hadn't even said a single word to her since he'd been back. There had been nothing to say. She hadn't approached him, not like Sawyer had all fervor and fury and ready to throw down. All she did was watch.

By the time the sun had disappeared and the only light around the camp was that of the fire and the stars, he had gotten worried. She was still there, showing no signs of going anywhere. It was like a trance, the way she just stared out at the water, surprisingly calm for the time of year. He couldn't just leave her out there all night.

After dinner he finally got up the guts to seek her out.

"You do this all the time?" He asked, when he was close enough for her to hear him easily. Her head whipped around to look at him, eyes flashing with something like shock. She really hadn't thought he would come around.

"Yeah." She smiled, as she looked down. It wasn't a happy smile, so much as one of sadness, of memories. The thing he didn't have. "You used to tease me about it. About sinking."

_Water goes out, takes the sand with it and you sink. I used to do it with my mom when I was a kid._

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to find his place in that moment. He didn't know where he was, or even what time of day it was. But he could hear her; he could feel her. And then it was gone again, just more disjointed whispers.

They were both silent for a long minute. He tried to form words but he inevitably would stop himself and rethink the statement he was about to make. Finally she told him, "You don't have to do this Jack. I'm glad that you tried, I really am, but if I've got to move on I can't do it with you here. It's too hard."

Jack dropped down into the sand in response, almost in a bit of a rebellion. They needed to get this sorted out; he needed answers. "What exactly are you moving on from?" She looked his way again, confused, and he could see there were unshed tears in her eyes. Kate blinked them back rapidly, trying to hide any and all vulnerability from him. "I just...I don't know…" he stopped, unable to find the words he was so desperately searching for.

"We were friends. Close friends." She interjected immediately, answering his question before he'd even asked it. He wondered if this was the way it had always been, if she had always gotten him as easily as she did just now. It couldn't be that simple; no one ever really understood him. "And I don't know what would've happened if things were different. I wish I did."

There was more than that he knew. Hell he'd practically gotten that much from Claire. But he knew he didn't really have the right to push. She probably wouldn't share anyway.

"I missed you." The words slipped from her lips, and her voice was small, wavering. Not at all the angry woman he'd heard yelling that previous night, or the strong-willed one on the beach this morning. Clearly it would be quite a challenge trying to figure her out, perhaps more of one than he could handle even if he wanted to. Had he ever understood her before? "That's all I know."

And then it was like she couldn't look at him anymore. Like she had shared too much. She folded in on herself, drawing her knees up closer, and wrapping her arms around them, like someone would do if they were cold. It was anything but cold.

"I'm sorry." He said, after a few seconds. His voice was almost as quiet as hers had been. "That I don't remember."

"It's probably better that you don't." Kate replied, some misplaced sarcasm in her voice mixing with acceptance. "There are things you're better of not knowing. You might think twice about coming over here then."

That gave him an opening. He could continue -- he could tell her that he wasn't completely clueless as to who she was -- or he could leave. His mind screamed 'leave' but another part of him was telling him that it was better if he tried. "I know about what you did, if that's what you mean," her eyes snapped over to him, and he could see the fear in them. Her entire body stiffened, and he could feel the energy in the air change. "I knew didn't I?"

She nodded, "You found my mugshot. But I never told you what I actually did. Not really." Kate bit her lip, something going through her head. Perhaps a particularly bad occurrence because she shivered. He wanted to ask, but decided now wasn't the time nor the place. "Just that I killed someone."

He winced at the admission. Killed. Murderer. He was supposed to be the good guy, the hero, and here he sat with a woman who was anything but. Still he forced himself to push those thoughts aside, to get back on track. "Well I may not know you very well, but I know myself. And there had to have been a reason why we were still friends, or whatever we were. I may be missing my memory Kate, but I remember bits and pieces every now and then, and they all seem to be about you. I don't want you to just move on, I don't want to just let go. I want to know you."

Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but she only exhaled, looking at him in disbelief. Obviously she had pictured this turning out differently. So had he. Jack hadn't planned out any of this, and yet here he was, speaking as if he'd memorized these lines.

"Or we could just move on, and pretend whatever happened never did." He added, backing off a bit. "I don't know which is the better option. I don't know. And I won't unless you let me try."

"I don't want to move on," she whispered. Her decision. She wasn't ready to give up on them. He hadn't thought she was.

"Okay," he replied, with a nod, and a slow smile. She gave a breathy laugh, and smiled at him wryly, the simple action doing funny things to his heart. A smile like that he would've thought he'd remember. He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged him back, moving just a bit closer to him, so they were almost touching, but not quite.

And that was where they stayed until the last fire had died out up the beach, and it was just them and the gentle waves. Hopeful, in spite of all that was lost between them.


End file.
